Good morning and Happy Hump Day ! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers! We're a group of authors who bring you our finest flash fiction every week, 500 to 1000 words, inspired by one of our prompts.
After the unpleasant encounter with the rednecks, Charlemagne arrives at last at his destination. See what's going on in this week's chapter of An Unholy Alliance. Don't forget to visit the other Briefers and see what's up with them. Their links follow my tale! Enjoy!
As I approached the front door, I found myself
assailed by an unaccustomed feeling of nervousness, waves of butterflies pirouetting
inside my stomach. Could it be the knowledge that my quest might finally be
reaching an end? Or maybe I feared the opposite. Would I learn something I
didn’t want to know? What was of greater concern to me, bad news or no news at
all?
Either way, I intended to find out. I’d come too far
to back down now.
Stop
being such an infant and knock on the door already.
How ridiculous was this scenario? The big bad
vampire afraid of mere words? I took a deep breath, reminded myself that I
could do anything I set my mind to, and raised my hand to knock upon the door…
which opened unexpectedly before I’d even touched it.
“Welcome, welcome!” a musical voice greeted me.
“Please, won’t you come in?” The petite figure who stood in the doorway turned,
not waiting for a response. I followed her inside without hesitation, as my
senses informed me that no one else lurked within. I wondered how she could
possibly have known I was there. Unless she’d been looking for me, which was
entirely possible. Casey had probably informed her that I would waste no time
in contacting her, which was very true, of course.
“I’m Isabella, but I’m sure you knew that,” she
continued. Pausing, she turned to regard me over one shoulder. “What should I
call you?”
“Charlemagne would be fine,” I replied.
“That’s a lovely name.” Her smile completely lit up
her face. She virtually glowed from within. I’d never met anyone who possessed
such a quality. I must confess, I found her persona a little unnerving, but I
quickly recovered my equanimity.
My first impression of Isabella was that of a fairy
who had fallen to Earth… assuming I believed in such things, which I didn’t.
She might have been slightly over five foot in height and well-curved. She wore
a moss green tunic over pink leggings. A silver ankh hung about her neck. Her
auburn hair flowed in waves to the middle of her back, strands of which were
tinted in various pastel shades. The overall effect was stunning and only
served to reinforce the image of her as a fairy or sprite.
She led me into her small but charming kitchen and
opened the refrigerator door. I was surprised to see a variety of bottles of
beer, including pale ale, gose, and stout, in various flavors. “I thought we
could sit in the garden while we talked. What can I offer you?”
I chose a Mexican hot chocolate coffee stout, and
she selected a raspberry gose for herself, and then I followed her through her
back door and into the beautiful garden that ringed her home. Being no expert
on flora, I couldn’t have said what most of the flowers were, other than the tall
sunflowers whose large heads craned hungrily toward the sun, but I did
recognize most of them as being wildflowers. I hadn’t thought people filled
their gardens with those, they just grew randomly by the side of the road, but
what did I know? I thought I spotted some purple tulips, so dark they were
almost black, but I would have thought their growing season was long over.
Two cast iron benches adorned with antique roses
faced each other in the middle of this oasis of beauty. An incongruous orange
mass lay on one bench, seeming out of place, but as we neared, the lump
resolved itself into a large orange tabby. The cat hissed at the sight of me,
although I made no move to approach the animal. Isabella scooped it up into her
arms, careful not to spill her beer. “Buddy!” she scolded him in an infinitely
patient tone. “Be nice to Charlemagne. He’s our guest.”
Buddy seemed less than impressed with this
explanation and proceeded to give me the evil eye as Isabella settled herself
and her companion on one bench, indicating the other with a nod. “Please, make
yourself comfortable.”
I obliged, but kept a wary eye on the feline all the
same. I sipped my beer to keep from blurting out the questions uppermost in my
mind, as that would have been rude, and I was loath to disrespect my charming
hostess in such a way. I considered myself fortunate to have been granted some
of her time and didn’t want to do anything that might jeopardize my access to
the information she had to impart. Which had nothing to do with her or her
beautiful garden.
I know, sometimes I can be self-delusional.
In my defense, it had been a long time since I’d
regarded people as anything other than as dietary requirements. Or, in the case
of my brothers, as competition. For what? I couldn’t say. Dominique had no love
for anyone but herself, but there were times when she hid that fact well. Mama
Lil had been the only person who could keep me in touch with my own humanity,
but she’d been dead for a century, a loss I still felt keenly.
If I was going to be honest with myself, I supposed
Casey had been the first one since Mama Lil who had been able to break through my
natural reserve with her great kindness and compassion. I could live with that.
But why did Fate seem so determined that I run into Tyrone Jackson on a regular
basis? And why did he seem so determined on being my friend? I would have to
disavow him of that train of thought. Not that I would ever see him again.
You
said that last time.
Stupid inner voice.
to be continued
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